It was already two in the morning and I had an early day tomorrow. I suggested we spend the night at a nearby hotel to facilitate the investigation.

Having missed most of the events tonight, Dali and Bingxin were almost too excited to go to sleep. At the hotel, they made me stay up with them for a chat. After all that had happened today, I wasn’t in much of a mood for idle talk and replied perfunctorily when spoken to.

“Dude, would you like to take a ‘couple’s’ bath together?” Dali teased when the tub in the bathroom was filled with warm water. “Or should I say a gay couple’s bath..."

"You’re disgusting,” I rebuked. “You should quickly come out of the closet so you can get together with Lao Yao!"

I was lying on the bed when I noticed Dali's cell phone casually placed on the sheets. I unlocked it and found the novel he was currently reading– "Otherworldly Merchant" which he mentioned last time. There were two names repeated throughout the text–Zhang Jiulin and Pockmark Li.

I was astonished! Was this novel really a narration of Zhang Jiulin's life experience?

But on second thought, there were people who wrote novels about their experiences all over the world. Of course, I regarded such narcissists with contempt.

In truth, I did a lot of reading but the only genre I couldn’t stand was fiction. Finishing a forensic science book as thick as a dictionary would take me a few nights at most, but a novel took me forever. I hadn’t even read any of the classic Chinese novels!

The knowledge and information I could gain from a novel were too fragmented. Besides, many of them were either partially made up or fabricated without a sliver of truth. I honestly couldn’t fathom why anyone liked to read them.

A while later, Dali came out of the bathroom and noticed my interest in his novel. "Oh my God! Has the sun risen from the west?!” he shouted. “You’re actually reading this novel? Would you like to know how to download the Mars Novels app?"

I threw his cell phone at him and disdained, "I’m just flipped through. I wouldn’t want to spend any time reading this nonsense!"

"I’m sincerely recommending it to you,” said Dali. “This novel is really interesting, especially the most recent chapters!"

"Really?” I scoffed. “Why don’t you tell me all about it then."

Dali opened the e-book, "Spoilers ruin the story! Read it yourself!"

"I don't have the time,” I argued. “So please just tell me!"

Thus, Dali explained the plot and the characters of the novel which was an opportunity to garner more information about the enemy, though I had no way of ascertaining if the contents were anywhere close to the truth.

Through my contact with Zhang Jiulin, it was obvious that his Ghost-Slaying Daggers and invisible needles were real. I suspected the spirit pet that could conjure up illusions might have been the one I caught sitting on his shoulder. Upon learning of the existence of such miraculous objects, I was well and truly flummoxed. For lack of a better description, my perception of the world had been turned upside down.

Thirsty from all the talk, Dali grabbed two bottles of Coke, one for me and the other for himself. "Dude, what’s up with you today?” asked Dali. “Why did you suddenly bring this up?"

I thought it rather unfair to hide the matter from him so I solemnly said, "Put down your drink first. I have something to tell you."

"What is it?” Dali stared in curiosity. “Are you Li Ka-shing’s illegitimate child?"

“Fuck off!" I retorted. "So here’s the thing, I actually met two people today–one of them is Pockmark Li and the other calls himself Zhang Jiulin."

Dali wordlessly blinked his shock-filled eyes at me. "Do you mean cosplayers?"

"They’re Yin object dealers from Wuhan."

"Oh my God!!!” he exclaimed.

Dali's ear-piercing screams were almost loud enough to topple the ceiling. He jumped up and down like a monkey, excitedly pulling my arm. "Is it true? Is it really true?"

I quickly broke free. "Geez, put on your clothes first!"

Throughout the rest of the night, I was bombarded by Dali’s endless questions. He begged me for Pockmark Li’s number, and as soon as I relented, he assaulted my ears with his enthusiastic plans to visit his idol tomorrow.

Just as well, his plan would kill two birds with one stone. I wanted Dali as far away from the case as possible for fear his life would be at risk, while he could realize his dream of meeting his idol.

The next morning, Dali and I left the hotel early, heading our separate ways. I went straight to the city bureau and found the conference room already filled with officers, including Xiaotao. Officer Luo was busy explaining something to everyone. "Are you all attending class?"

Xiaotao laughed, "You’re late!"

Officer Luo was getting everyone acquainted with the hand signals used by the SWAT team. Director-General Cheng had already given each officer a pair of headphones which they were to put on as soon as there were any suspicious sounds. When the time came, the plan was to turn up the volume to the max and use hand signals to communicate.

After the demonstration, we were dismissed. There was still no news from Wang Yuanchao who had gone to Mt. Leopard Prison early this morning to investigate.

I asked Xiaotao to call the Wuhan Public Security Bureau for information on the two Yin object dealers. Upon hearing my suggestion, Xiaotao chuckled, "Are you still thinking about those two charlatans?"

"Know thy enemy and know thy self; a thousand battles, a thousand victories!” I explained. “Even if we don't cooperate with them, knowing more about them won’t do us any harm."

Soon, the Wuhan Public Security Bureau faxed over information about the two men. A piece of paper was hardly enough to reflect their legendary deeds, but still I noticed certain details which could be used against them!

Right then, an officer charged into the room, crying in panic, "Chief Huang, there’s been more suicides!"

"Who are the victims?" asked Xiaotao.

"Three families on Kangcheng Road committed suicide this morning,” replied the officer. “We’ve just received a report."

As we had predicted, Long Bangguo seeked revenge on the gangsters’ families. We immediately headed to a small residential area on Kangcheng Road. Many nosy onlookers, as well as grieving family members, had gathered downstairs of the apartment building. The officers in charge of this jurisdiction were trying their best to maintain order.

We pushed through the crowd and took the elevator to the seventh floor, where three wide-open doors greeted us. The men, women and children in these apartments had committed suicide in different ways by swallowing nails, stabbing their eyes with knives, hanging themselves and slitting their throats.

According to the household registration data provided by the police, the head of one of the families was a former triad leader who had already been executed. His remaining family members seldom came into contact with their neighbors.

Obviously, Long Bangguo had only intended to murder his family, while the other two were collateral damage. After all, it was almost impossible to orient something like music.

The crime scene was unusual with the murderer standing in the corridor while he killed the occupants of the apartment. However, the officers who first arrived at the scene were unaware of the fact and had left footprints all over the corridor, making it impossible to discern the murderer’s.

"Shouldn’t there be some sort of monitoring inside the elevator and at the gates of the residence?” I asked. “Let's visit the security room to have a look."

We headed to the security room at the gates of the residence and asked to see the surveillance video from last night. The security guard on duty hit the power key on the computer but obtained no response. After checking the power supply and wiring, he muttered, "That’s strange. Is the computer broken?"

I tried to lift the mainframe and found it was as light as a feather–the screws on the computer were loose. Opening the chassis revealed a picture that dampened our spirits. The motherboard and hard disk had all been removed.

“How could this be?” blurted the security guard as he looked at us in shock. “There was definitely someone on duty last night!"

I glanced at the clock on the wall and asked, "When did you and the other guy change shifts?"

"Five o'clock this morning," answered the security guard.

"Did you see him with your own eyes?" I continued.

“Of course!” the man scratched his cheek. "We even talked about football for a bit."

"You’re lying,” I sneered. “Your socks don’t match which indicates you were in a hurry to get ready this morning. You were late so you couldn’t have seen the last guy!" After a pause, I added, "And your colleague might have committed suicide!"